This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. If there’s one thing that should be
predictable throughout the year, it’s Christmas. Henry looked forward to it every year, with all
of its traditions and customs. And Henry
liked traditions. When things went the
way they are supposed to go – the comfortable, enjoyable way they’re supposed
to go – well, nothing could be better than that.
But ever since Thanksgiving, nothing had gone the
way it was supposed to. He and his wife
Louise were supposed to take the grandchildren to the tree-lighting ceremony in
town square on the day after Thanksgiving, like they always do. But their daughter-in-law decided to take
them Black Friday shopping with her – Henry shuddered to think about how little
Timmy must have hated that! He and
Louise went to the tree-lighting anyway, but instead of the traditional singing
of “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” that everyone joined in on, a teenage
band with guitars and drums played an awful racket that was supposed to attract
a younger crowd. Well, it sure didn’t
attract Henry. He left in disgust, went
home, and played his Nate King Cole Christmas album. But…it just wasn’t the same.
The next day wasn’t any better, when Henry got the
Christmas lights out of the attic.
Apparently some mice got into the box during the summer and had chewed
the wires. The whole box of lights was
ruined. So Henry had to brave the
frantic crowds at the shopping plaza to get new lights. He hoped to get a set just like the ones he
had always put up: red plastic bells with a warm yellow light in them. He went to five different stores, and
couldn’t find them. There were green
bells (absurd!), and red bells with bright flashing lights (ugly!), and silver
bells that played “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” (disgusting!). As a black mood settled over Henry’s heart,
he grabbed a bunch of the plainest looking red lights he could find, went home,
and put them up. The color was right,
but…it just wasn’t the same.
The following morning was Sunday, and Henry woke
up with a sense of joyful expectation.
If there’s one place where you can count on the Christmas traditions
being maintained, it was church! He and
Louise pulled into the parking lot at 10:45, and Henry walked into the
sanctuary expecting to see the Christmas tree up front, wreaths on the windows,
and special Christmas banners on the walls.
But the church had a new pastor who had other ideas. Apparently, Henry was informed, Christians
don’t begin celebrating Christmas until December 25. The weeks up to then are devoted to something
called Advent. Henry had never heard of
Advent before, and he didn’t like it.
Instead of a month of singing familiar Christmas carols, he had to sing
strange hymns about waiting for the Messiah to come. And the pastor informed the congregation that
because the Christmas tree was originally a pagan symbol, it was not proper to
have one in a church. Henry hadn’t been
sure what he thought of this new preacher, but now he was convinced. He didn’t like her one bit. She was ruining Christmas for him. It was his church, and he loved it. But…it just wasn’t the same.
And this was how the entire month of December went
for Henry. It seemed as though every
holiday tradition and custom was being disrupted. None of the things that he could count on
were happening. For Henry, it just
wasn’t Christmas without watching the Grinch and the Peanuts Christmas specials
on TV. But he had to miss both of them:
the bowling league Christmas party and his grand-daughter’s school program made
sure of that. Oh, he could have recorded
them on his VCR (he still had one of those), or bought the DVD, or had his son
pulled up on the computer for him. But
there was something special about watching them on live television. These other things were alright, but…it just
wasn’t the same.
Henry enjoyed the holiday traditions so much that
even sending out Christmas cards was a joy for him. But when their son come to take a picture for
the card of him and Louise in their Christmas sweaters sitting by the
fireplace, he said, “Dad, you’re not going to write a brag letter like you
always do, are you? People don’t really
care what the weather was like on your vacation, or what color you painted the
garage. Can you give it a break, for
just one year?” Henry hated to hear his
son describe his Christmas letters like that.
To be honest, writing them helped him re-live the best parts of the past
year and enjoy them all over again. But
to keep peace in the family, he decided not to write on this year. So he sent out the cards with no letter
enclosed. It was fine, but…it just
wasn’t the same.
Even Henry’s doctor was ruining his
Christmas. Back in September, during his
annual physical, he told Henry that he was in danger of developing diabetes and
that he should cut down on the sweets.
The doctor’s advice wouldn’t have been so bad if Henry was the only one
who heard it. But for some reason, he
had let Louise come with him, and she took Dr. Weintraub’s words to heart. And unfortunately, she hadn’t forgotten them
by Christmas. Instead of making her
traditional lady fingers, Louise found a recipe for sugar-free Christmas fruit
cookies. She confiscated his stash of
candy canes and replaced them with diabetic-friendly peppermint candies. Henry ate them, but…it just wasn’t the same.
Henry put a lot of thought into the gifts he gave,
but this year wouldn’t go as planned.
Louise’s Secret Santa at her book club had bought her the exact same
scarf that Henry had already wrapped and put under the tree. His granddaughter Emily had announced last
week that she couldn’t stand the music of the boy band that she couldn’t get
enough of last month…the same boy band whose concert video Henry had spent
weeks to find. Come Christmas morning
they would open their presents…but it wouldn’t be the same. Even the weather was part of the conspiracy
to take away Henry’s Christmas. There
had been a few hard frosts and couple of flurries early in the month, but
lately they were stuck in a warm spell that would last into next week. How can you celebrate Christmas when the grass
is trying to grow and you don’t even need to wear a jacket?
But then, just when it seemed as though Christmas
couldn’t get any worse, Henry and Louise got two phone calls that drove the
final nails into the Christmas coffin.
The first was from their daughter who had just started a new job in
Boston. Cathy was cancelling her trip
home for the holidays because of a big project at work that had to be finished
by the end of the year. She would stay
in Boston and spend the day with her new boyfriend’s family. It would be the first Christmas ever that the
whole family wouldn’t be together. They
would still get together with their son and his family for the Christmas Eve
service at the church (unless the pastor had cancelled it!), and on Christmas
morning to watch the kids open their presents.
But without their daughter there…it wouldn’t be the same.
The second phone call came at noon on Christmas
Eve. It was their daughter-in-law Ellen:
the kids had a terrible stomach flu and haven’t been able to keep anything down
since the night before. The pediatrician
said that it would pass in a day or two, but that they needed to stay in bed
and drink lots of fluids. Maybe they’d
feel well enough the next morning to open their presents, but there was no way
they’d be able to go to church on Christmas Eve. When he hung up the phone, Henry told Louise
the sad news. “Well,” she replied, “I
guess it’s just going to be the two of us at church this evening.”
But Henry had a different idea. His Christmas had already been turned
topsy-turvy; why try to salvage any of it?
“Look, Honey,” he replied, “you and Sam and Ellen should go to church,
and I’ll stay with the kids. They’ll
want you in the choir, and Sam is supposed to help with the offering. I’m sure Ellen will appreciate a break from
the sick kids for a couple hours.” So
while Louise got ready to go to church, Henry walked past the tree with all the
wrong presents under it, turned on the pathetic Christmas lights, and went past
the green grass to the garage to drive to his son’s house. By the time Henry got there, the children
were in bed getting some much-needed rest.
Ellen assured Henry that if he just checked on Emily and Timmy from time
to time, they should be fine until they got back from church. With that, she and Sam headed out the door
and Henry found himself in a quiet house, alone except for two sick sleeping
grandchildren down the hall.
“Well,” he thought sarcastically to himself, “this
is just the perfect end to a perfect Christmas season. Stuck here babysitting, instead of enjoying
the holiday with the family at church.
This isn’t the way things are supposed to be.” Feeling more than a little sorry for himself,
he plopped down onto the couch, too miserable even to turn on the TV to watch
Clarence the angel help George Bailey discover that It’s a Wonderful Life. As he sat alone, in a room illuminated only
by the Christmas tree lights, he noticed his son’s Bible sitting on the coffee
table. “Alright,” he thought, “if I
can’t make it to church on Christmas Eve, I suppose the next best thing is to
read the Christmas story while I sit here.”
He decided that, since he had plenty of time on his hands, he may as
well start at the very beginning of the gospel of Luke and read the whole way
through the story.
Henry was a Christian man, and had been for as
long as he could remember. He had sat
through plenty of sermons explaining the importance of Christmas: God becoming
man and entering the world to save us. He hadn’t just heard it: he believed it and
welcomed it. In fact, at the heart of it
all, that’s what really made Christmas so special for Henry. The carols, the decorations, the family
gatherings, and all the rest of the beloved traditions mattered only because of
what was at the center of it all. Henry
knew that, even if he had to remind himself of it from time to time. This was one of those times. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to
this Christmas. But if he could just
remember what it was all about, maybe the season wouldn’t be a total loss. So partly out of duty, and partly to avoid
boredom, Henry opened the Bible and began to read from the start of Luke’s
gospel.
The story was familiar to Henry. He had read it, and even acted it out, plenty
of times. As a young boy, he had been
part of the Christmas pageants: once he even got to play Joseph. So he knew the tale: Zechariah and Elizabeth
found out that they would have a son, who would grow up to be John the Baptist
to prepare the way for Jesus. An angel
told the virgin Mary that she would give birth to the Messiah. She and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem, where
she had her child and laid him in a manger.
An angel told the shepherds what happened, and where to find the
baby. Henry knew the story by heart, and
loved every bit of it.
But tonight, on this Christmas Eve that just
wasn’t the same, as he read the story alone in a dark and quiet house, even the
familiar tale didn’t seem to be the same.
Was it because nothing was the way it was supposed to be in his own
Christmas celebration this year? Or was
it because Henry wasn’t actually alone in the room: that God himself was there,
explaining the story of Christ’s birth as he read the words on the page? I’ll let you decide for yourself. But as Henry read, it was as though he was
reading it with new eyes.
The first Christmas was just like his Christmas:
nothing happened the way it was supposed to.
An old couple like Zechariah and Elizabeth shouldn’t be having a baby;
Henry chuckled to himself at the thought of Louise and him having a baby at
their age. And a young girl like Mary
shouldn’t be having a baby either; Henry got a bit uncomfortable when he
realized that Mary probably wasn’t much older than his granddaughter
Emily. Both births were miracles, of
course: but the devout priest serving in the temple didn’t believe the news
like you’d expect, the young peasant girl did.
Things seemed to be turned upside: as crazy as having 60 degree weather
on Christmas Eve.
Henry glanced up when he heard Timmy stir for a
moment in his bed, but went on to read the song Mary sang after she was told
that she would have a baby. Her spirit
sang, and her heart rejoiced. Henry had
listened to enough choir cantatas that his wife had sung in to be able to
recognize that line. But as he kept
reading, he discovered why Mary was filled with such joy. God had chosen her, insignificant little Mary
of Nazareth, to play a huge role in his plan of salvation; she would be blessed
for generations to come. But Mary went
on to praise God for the things he had done, and would do, that would disrupt
the world. Everything was going to
change; nothing would be like it had always been. The humble would be exalted and the hungry
would be satisfied. But the proud would
be brought down, the mighty would lose their power, and the rich would lose
their wealth.
Henry let the Bible rest on his lap as this new
thought seeped into his soul. According
to Mary’s song, the whole point to Christmas isn’t about keeping traditions,
doing things the way they’re supposed to be done, and making sure that
everything stays the same. Christmas
came because God wanted to shake things up!
The reason Christ was born was to fix things that had been broken, and
to re-arrange what was out of balance.
Henry was the first to say that “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” But the world had been broken before Jesus
came, and God needed to fix it. In fact,
the world still needed fixing. There
were too many terrible stories on the news about children being killed and
warfare in far-off countries, of politicians who don’t do anything but fight
with each other, and greedy corporations putting their profit ahead of
everything else. No, things in the world
couldn’t be the way they’ve always been if there was supposed to be peace on
earth and good will to men.
Henry’s eyes fell upon the nativity scene that his
son’s family had put up on a table in the corner of the room. Everything in it was out of place: the Son of
God born to a poor family without a decent roof over his head. The news of his birth announced to a handful
of shepherds working the night shift out in a remote pasture, instead of a huge
crowd of people. A group of pagan
astrologers coming to pay homage, instead of the wise and holy religious
leaders in Jerusalem. Apparently, God
wanted to shake things up and change everything.
Suddenly ashamed, Henry dropped his gaze to the
floor where Timmy’s race cars were scattered about. God came to change things, not just in the
world around him, but things inside of Henry himself. He could be a bit too quick to express his
opinion, and too slow to listen to what other people had to say. He talked about what a shame it was that
there were needy people even in their own town, but he didn’t do much more than
talk about it. He loved his family, but
didn’t always show Louise and everyone else the respect that they
deserved. Henry covered his face with
both hands as a feeling of guilt washed over him. He was selfish, prideful, and lazy.
At just that moment, Henry heard the church bell
ring out. Louise and Sam and Ellen and
the rest of the congregation were getting ready to light their candles and sing
“Silent Night.” Christ the savior is
born. Everything was different now, and
nothing was the same. God had come to
overturn a suffering world and to break through his own sin and shame. Henry walked down the hallway to look at his
sleeping grandchildren. His Christmas
wasn’t the same this year. But now he
understood, for the first time, that this is actually what Christmas is all
about. The world has changed, he had
changed, and nothing will ever be the same again. Thank God for that.
